


nurse your battle scars

by restless5oul



Series: yesterday we were just children [8]
Category: Formula 1 RPF, GP2 Series RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: A bit of a filler, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Cliffhangers, Friendship, Gen, Gun Violence, Injury, Major Illness, Sad times, Sharing a Bed, Story Progression, as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restless5oul/pseuds/restless5oul
Summary: there were three things charles learnt when he woke up that morning:1. mick drools in his sleep2. they had to move on or get left behind3. the bullet had to come out of jüri's shoulder





	nurse your battle scars

There were three things Charles learnt when he woke up from his night’s sleep in the deserted high school, his neck and shoulders aching from sleeping on the sofa.

The first was that Mick drooled in his sleep. Charles had woken to soft sunlight hitting his eyes, distracted by a damp patch on his t-shirt, right where his protruding ribs met the softer skin of his stomach. He looked down, almost flinching before he saw that Mick was still sleeping, his face squished against Charles’ side, his chest rising and falling softly in time with his even breathing. Mick seemed to sense Charles’ gaze on him, because his eyes fluttered open, still bleary with exhaustion, no doubt his body was not satisfied with the few hours it had managed, when it was days of rest that it needed to catch up on.

“Sorry,” Mick muttered with a small laugh as he wiped his chin, attempting to pat dry Charles’ t-shirt as he sat up, leaving Charles feeling a little cold at the loss of contact.

“It’s okay,” Charles shrugged, watching Mick as he yawned and stretched, wondering if he was going to address the somewhat compromising position that they’d fallen asleep in, but the thought didn’t even seem to occur to the young German. In some ways that made it easier. Charles had big enough things to worry about without adding that to the mix.

The second thing was that Alex and Ollie didn’t plan on hanging around. When Charles and Mick had walked into the room next door, blankets in hand, they had been met by Alex, who had just pressed one finger to his lips, indicating that they should be quiet. As the two of them sat opposite the two older men, Charles saw that Juan and Jüri were still sleeping soundly in the corner of the room.

“Hungry?” Ollie asked Charles quietly as he sat down, crossing his legs as Mick took his place next to him.

“Please,” Charles nodded, taking the bowl of beans he was being offered. They were cold and clearly tinned, but it helped chip away at the hunger which had taken up a permanent residence in his stomach. He chewed slowly, noticing Mick doing the same, both of them wanting to savour the food.

No amount of food could distract Charles from the look Alex and Ollie shared; one of anxiety, and he could tell that there was something that they wanted to say.

“What is it?” he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to wake his friends. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mick frown, looking between Charles and the two men sat opposite them, clearly confused about what he was talking about.

“We’re not staying,” Alex finally said, addressing Charles alone. Perhaps because he knew him best, or perhaps knowing that he was his friend’s little brother gave him some sense of responsibility over him. His words disappointed Charles, but he wasn’t at all surprised. It was clear that they hadn’t been there long, and nothing about their surroundings suggested that they were planning on remaining long term.

“I figured as much,” he said, setting down his now empty bowl.

“We just don’t like to stay in one place for too long,” Ollie explained, shuffling a little where he sat, like whatever he was thinking about was causing him physical discomfort, “It doesn’t end well in our experience.” 

“Plus, we’re heading somewhere,” Alex said and Charles’ attention piqued. He shared a look with Mick, feeling a wave of anticipation rise up within him. Maybe he hadn’t quite realised it, but after so many months stuck inside the same building, doing the same things, fighting the same battle for survival, he was desperate for a direction to head in. He couldn’t live like they had been doing forever.

“Where?” Mick’s question was barely audible, the fear and excitement running through his voice.

“We’re not entirely sure,” Alex said, an uncertain frown on his face, “But we do know this.”

Like they had planned this, Ollie reached behind him and pulled out an old, slightly yellowing map from a bag, placing it on the table with a flourish. At the same time, Alex reached over and turned on the battered radio that had been sitting next to him. At first there was only white noise, a sound that reminded Charles of the hours him and Pierre had spent waiting for news to be broadcast over the airwaves. The sound grated on his ears, making his skin crawl as unwelcome memories crept back into his mind.

“I don’t-…” he said, shaking his head, but was stopped when Mick put a hand on his forearm. His eyes were wide and bright, and his facial expression was more alive than Charles thought he had ever seen it.

“Listen,” his voice was hushed as he nodded his head towards the radio. Charles strained his ears, trying to listen, to discern anything audible from the crackling coming from the old machine.

Then, so faint it was hard to hear, hidden amongst the static was a tiny voice, like an automated recording, repeating a series of numbers over and over again. There was something about hearing that sound which terrified Charles, the obvious sign that there was something out there, someone out there, something which was so much bigger than this little world he had found for himself in the past few months. But the feeling of knowing that they weren’t alone was so thrilling it overwhelmed him. Suddenly the sound of that static was the best thing he’d ever heard.

“What is it?” he asked Alex, after minutes of just listening to the quiet sound of the radio.

“We think it’s coordinates,” it was Ollie who answered, pointing to a specific point at the map, which he had carefully unfolded. A red circle had been scrawled on the wrinkled paper, with a little note scribbled beside it in some language Charles didn’t understand, the shapes of the letters leading him to guess that it was Russian, or Slavic at the very least.

“And that’s where you’re going?”

Alex just nodded, and there was a silent offer in his gesture. One that should have had an easy answer, but it wasn’t that simple.

The third thing that Charles learnt that morning in the abandoned high school was that Jüri had gotten worse.

After his and Mick’s short conversation with their hosts, they seemed to silently agree that it would be wrong to discuss the predicament without Juan and Jüri. The two boys in question were still slumped in the corner of the room, Jüri’s head on Juan’s lap as he sat up against the wall, upright in a position that couldn’t have been comfortable. Somehow they managed to wear peaceful expressions on their faces, making Charles feel guilty for waking them.

In the end he left it to Mick, who knelt beside their two friends, shaking them gently to rouse them. Charles sat down too as he watched them come around, immediately noticing the grimace on Jüri’s face as he sat up, his hand reaching for his shoulder straight away.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked as soon as he saw that pained look on his face.

Jüri nodded, but there were beads of sweat gathering on his forehead, and his hand was still clutching his shoulder as he kicked his legs out of the sleeping bag, manoeuvring himself so that he was sat next to Juan, rather than on top of him.

“Are _you_ guys okay?” Juan countered, looking at Mick who was wearing that expression on his face that often appeared when he was dying to say something. While he often wouldn’t follow up on that urge, this time Charles knew he would.

He watched his friends’ faces very carefully as Mick explained what Alex and Ollie had told them, mindful that the men they were discussing were sitting within earshot. Jüri seemed too distracted by his pain to react naturally, Juan meanwhile looked enthused by the idea, and on board before Mick had even asked the question.

“Of course we have to go,” he said, looking at the two of them as though it was obvious.

“I just…” Mick started, cutting himself off as he so often did, but deciding better of it and voicing his worries anyway, “What if we get there and there’s nothing there? Or what if it’s worse than how we live now?”

Charles could see where he was coming from. But he also found that he had utter faith that this wasn’t a trap or a mistake. Maybe it was just a gut feeling, but he was certain Mick’s concerns were just born of the worrier inside him.

“How could it be worse than sitting around until we starve to death?” Juan asked brusquely, raising an eyebrow. His bluntness caught them all of guard, though they all knew that was the truth of their reality.

Mick sat back a little, looking a little stunned, and perhaps a little hurt, sensing a return to their bickering of the previous day. Juan possibly sensed that too, because he corrected himself quickly.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly before taking a deep breath, “There’s just nothing to stay for. None of us have anything left after all. Sure, maybe it ends terribly, maybe we die anyway. But it’s better to do something than nothing at all.”

“I agree,” Charles finally joined the conversation. Usually in all their decision making processes he would sit back unless he absolutely had to join in, preferring not to impose his opinion on everyone else. But this was so important that he couldn’t just say nothing, “We have nothing to lose.”

Mick’s face was full of reservation. And Charles could tell he was torn. But Jüri stopped them from discussing things further.

“Guys, sorry but my shoulder it’s-…” he gasped, unable to finish his sentence as he bit back a cry of pain, the feverish hue on his face now clearly visible. Panic settled over the four of them in one fell swoop and Charles spun around quickly to get Alex and Ollie’s attention.

“Alex! Can you help?!” he called over, trying to keep his voice calm but failing. He turned back to see that Juan was helping Jüri out of the shirt he had been wearing, one Charles didn’t recognise, and judging by the size, it was one that Alex or Ollie had given him. In a matter of seconds Alex was at his side, passing him a strip of tablets telling him to take two as he pulled something else out of the first aid kit.

“Juan you need to let me look,” Alex said firmly, his voice commanding enough that Juan scooted out of the way, planting himself in between Mick and Charles. The three of them watched as Alex gingerly pulled off the shirt, revealing the bandage that was plastered on Jüri’s shoulder. He prized it off carefully, and the sight of the wound underneath it made Charles’ stomach lurch.

He didn’t know much about medicine or biology, but he was sure that the blue-ish purple tinge that now surrounded the hole that the bullet had entered his skin through wasn’t right. And by the way Juan grabbed at both his and Mick’s hands he was sure that he was thinking the exact same thing. The worry was palpable from the boy next to him, so Charles just squeezed his hand back, hoping that it would offer some comfort at least.

Ollie appeared at Jüri’s side handing him a glass filled with deep amber liquid, no one had a chance to ask what it was before he thrust it into his hands, motioning for him to drink, which he did so immediately, desperate for anything to relive the pain. It didn’t exactly seem to be to his taste however.

“What the fuck is that?!” Jüri coughed as he took a large swig from the glass, grimacing as his eyes watered and for a moment he seemed to forget all about his shoulder.

“Whisky,” Ollie said, not looking up as he handed a fresh bandage to Alex.

“Dude!”

“We don’t have any painkillers stronger than co-codamol,” Ollie shrugged.

“But you have whisky?” Jüri asked incredulously, eliciting another shrug of the shoulders from the Englishman. The distraction seemed to have helped a little, but there were still beads of sweat clinging to his forehead, and his lips were trembling slightly, like he was shivering, despite the fact that it was stuffy inside the room.

“The bullet’s starting to cause an infection,” Alex said, mostly to Ollie, but loud enough so all of them in the room could hear. Charles felt Juan’s already tight grip on his hand harden, making him wince.

“We can’t take it out,” Ollie shook his head, busying himself with repacking the first aid kit.

“I know that,” Alex snapped, rubbing at his temples like he was thinking hard. He glanced back at the three boys watching him carefully, keeping a silent vigil over the scene. His face looked weary, the type of exhaustion there that Charles felt daily, “I don’t want to force you to make a decision. But I really think our best chance of getting him help is to take him with us and hope that there’s someone wherever we’re going who can help him.”

“Is there nothing you can do?” Mick asked, sounding incredibly anxious, his eyes still locked on Jüri who was currently sipping water from a bottle Ollie had handed him.

“Not with what we have. It’s too dangerous to try take out the bullet, and he’ll need antibiotics if it is infected,” Alex shook his head, guilt colouring his features. With a jolt, Charles remembered that it was he who had shot the gun and done this, though he probably hadn’t known who or what he was shooting at, it still had to sting to see what he had done. 

Mick looked at Juan and Charles, but he already knew what they thought. It was him they were waiting to decide.

“Jüri?” he asked, turning to look at their friend who was now trying to get his shirt back on without moving his right arm too much. He finished dressing before he looked up and answered. They must have seemed a right state, the three of them, gazing at him with their hearts in their mouths and their hands entwined, and staring back at them all they saw was fear on his face. Not the kind he’d shown when he’d shrieked for Juan to come kill the spider that had crawled past him in the bathroom. But a kind that had settled deep within him, a desperate kind of fear.

“I want to go,” he said, his voice quiet, sounding as unsteady as he looked.

“Ok we go,” Mick nodded, standing so he could help Jüri to his feet.

“We’ll help you pack,” Charles said to Alex and Ollie, moving from where he had been knelt on the floor. He gave Juan a final pat on the shoulder before going to help them fill their rucksacks, rationing out the food and water, leaving behind those things which were too heavy for them to carry. Charles left behind his bag, instead moving his things into the larger spare one that Alex offered him. He didn’t ask about the few belongings that were already in there, or the name that was scrawled on the lining. Though the thought that this had belonged to someone else rather recently weighed heavy on him as he slung it over his shoulders.

Ollie said they had worked out that it would take three days to get to the point marked on the map, possibly less since they had originally worked out the distance some time ago. But there was no guarantee that Jüri wouldn’t slow them down if they travelled by foot. So there first priority was to find some quicker way to move.

Travelling as part of a larger group made Charles feel a little safer, given that Alex and Ollie seemed to have a better idea of what they were doing, and they were far better shots with far better guns. But he also knew that it made them a larger target. He didn’t know exactly how smart these creatures were, but he knew that if they saw them all trudging along together, and if they could tell that one of them was struggling, then they would know that they were easy pickings.

Charles noticed how Ollie, map in hand, tried to keep them out of the residential areas, and where possible, on the quieter streets only. That first day they tried to move as quickly as possible, but Charles could see it was taking a toll on Jüri who looked increasingly exhausted and a little faint as they pushed on. Charles was grateful for their pace on the two occasions where they turned a corner to find that they weren’t the only ones out on the streets.

Each time Charles was taken back to that first day he left the apartment and the utter horror he had felt when he’d seen one of those monsters up close for the first time. He found himself paralysed, unable to raise the gun in his hands. Thankfully, Alex, or Ollie, or Mick was there, seeming to fire without a second thought. Whilst Charles couldn’t help but remember that there was only once he had done that. And it wasn’t something he wanted to repeat.

By the time evening set in, Juan had resorted to half carrying Jüri, his arms wrapped around his torso, carrying both of their bags. The city streets had turned into suburbs, and after a tentative reconnaissance, they found an empty house they could pull out their sleeping bags and set up camp in the draughty living room.

Charles barely slept. The cold and the endless running of his mind keeping him up. As much as he tried not to think about it, he couldn’t help the anxiety that seized him when he wondered what they’d do if there turned out to be nothing there. Or if they travelled all that way to find that there was no one who could help Jüri. And they’d risked making it all worse for nothing.

He lay awake in the early hours of the morning, waiting for the hours to get up, though he had a strong suspicion that most of the others were just pretending to sleep as well.

The bad news was that Jüri had gotten worse overnight. His fever had well and truly set in, and his pulse was at least twice as fast as it should have been. The only small comfort was that he at least seemed mostly lucid, though he seemed hell bent on insisting that he could walk with them. Even Charles could see that wasn’t going to happen.

After the rest of them fed themselves, washing the food down with lukewarm water, they left Jüri with Juan, as they set out in search of a car, or some kind of vehicle that still had fuel inside. But Charles knew they were counting on a miracle, and he hadn’t had that kind of luck in months. So maybe the universe owed him something.

That seemed to be the case when Alex and Mick broke down the garage door of the neighbouring house to find four quad bikes stashed away, each with at least half a tank of fuel. There was no guarantee they would get them all the way to their destination. But they would be quicker, and sticking Jüri on the back of one of them would do him a lot more good than making him walk for miles and miles. 

So they set off, taking three of the bikes with them. Alex and Jüri on one, Ollie and Juan on the second, and Charles and Mick on the last. The hours wore on and Charles was just waiting for the tell-tale sound of the engine giving up, spluttering as it used its last drop of fuel. But as his arms grew tired with holding the gun aloft, and they entered the quieter, deserted countryside, they kept ploughing on.

“We should be nearly there!” Ollie called over his shoulder from the front of their convoy, the wind making it almost impossible to hear him properly. Charles felt his heartbeat pick up, as his eyes sought out any sign of civilisation, or whatever in the world it was they were heading towards.

Then on the distant horizon, a tall metal fence rose up, almost three times the height of Charles. That would have meant nothing on its own. If it wasn’t for the distant black silhouettes of people and cars moving around within its confines. As they got closer a mismatch multitude of buildings came into view, and a gate which broke up the fence, complete with a manned watchtower. Charles found himself silently praying that this was the remnants of society as he had known it, not something more sinister, something darker.

As they approached, the ground, which had been overgrown grass, turned into thick mud, churned up by wide tyres and dozens upon dozens of footprints, forcing them to abandon the bikes before they got stuck.

Mick was quick to help Juan haul Jüri off the back of the bike, who, by this point was fading in and out of consciousness, his forehead resting against Juan’s shoulder as he struggled to keep himself awake.

“Juan,” he whined, his voice slurred as Mick lifted one of his arm’s around his shoulders trying to get him to move with them, though his feet kept dragging on the soft dirt. Charles saw that Alex and Ollie had go on ahead, yelling up at whoever was keeping watch from the tower. The gates and fences were boarded up at this part, making it impossible to see what was beyond the perimeter.

“Come on Jüri you have to move,” Mick pleaded with his desperately, handing over his bag and gun to Charles, who began to walk beside his three friends, slowly as they half carried Jüri to the large gate that was gradually opening.

“I can’t,” he moaned, screwing his face up in agony, his breaths audibly rattling in his chest. A horrible sound that made Charles' skin crawl.

“Yes you can,” Juan said firmly, and that seemed to spur him on.

The four of them trudged through the gate, Charles too busy watching Jüri to take note of the scene around him. At any other time he might have been desperate to see what humans had become. To see where hope of something more than counting down the days lay. But he didn’t care about anything else in that moment.

“Drop your guns,” a voice barked at them, and Charles finally turned his head to see three soldiers lined up in front of them, the barrels of their guns aiming their way. Alex and Ollie had stopped already and were stood, arms raised, their bags lying on the ground by their feet.

Gulping, Charles dropped his and Mick’s belongings, suddenly feeling that familiar fear creeping back up on him. Any notions he had of being safe went out the window, and he felt the instinctive urge to step in front of his friends, to get them out of harm’s way.

“I said drop them!” the solider who had issued the order shouted again, and Charles noticed that Juan still had his gun slung across his back, clearly not wanting to let go of Jüri to take if off. Something which he was trying to explain, but unsuccessfully.

It all seemed to happen in a matter of seconds. The solider moved on Juan, grabbing him by the shoulder and wrenching the gun from him, shoving him away so hard that it sent him to the ground. There was shouting, in several different languages, and Charles must have moved to retaliate, because he felt the barrel of a gun being pushed into the backs of his knees, so that his legs gave way, sending him onto his hands and knees.

The chaos and confusion made it hard to understand what was going on. He could hear Mick yelling in ferocious German, and saw from the corner of his eye Juan trying to push himself up off the ground next to him. Alex and Ollie were trying to reason with the remaining solider, imploring with them to at least take Jüri to where he could get some help. But no one seemed able to listen above all the noise.

The commotion attracted more attention. There was the sound of heavy footsteps squelching in the mud, voices asking what was happening, demanding to know who they were. Charles was frozen, the only thing he seemed able to sense was the dirt on his hands and the subconscious knowledge that he had a gun trained at him, held by someone who seemed to have no reservations about pulling the trigger.

“Stop! Stop it!” someone was yelling, the voice full of authority in the way that only someone who was securely in charge could manage. There was something distantly familiar about the voice, but it was hard to make out amongst the others. But whoever it was seemed to command attention, because most of the cacophony ceased, just so Charles could hear him say:

“That’s my brother.”

And Charles finally looked up.


End file.
